


Screwed Up

by tzigane, Zaganthi (Caffiends)



Series: Getting Away from it All [4]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Brain Injury, Community: kink_bingo, Jimmy Moriarty - Freeform, M/M, What Was I Thinking?, braindamaged!Jim, uncomfortable
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-28
Updated: 2012-10-28
Packaged: 2017-11-17 06:12:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/548466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tzigane/pseuds/tzigane, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caffiends/pseuds/Zaganthi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sebastian liked Mrs. Bhamidipati. She taught Jimmy (over and over) how to make interesting breakfast foods that they tried to recreate on weekends, made sure he had a good healthy lunch, did his physio in the mornings, and gave a damn precise report of the day at the end of every day. "He's in his bedroom again," she told Bastian, nearly done packing up her activity bag, the library books she read when Jimmy decided he would rather sleep in the middle of the day than play games because his head hurt.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Screwed Up

Mrs. Bhamidipati was a pretty diligent watcher of Jim. She was a nurse, but kids had sort of taken her off of the career circuit for a while. Her children were at school, and working for Sebastian during school hours and some odd evenings gave him the freedom to get out and do a little leg work on a weekday basis. For bigger things, for longer trips, he had other arrangements, but as far as having someone in the house to keep Jimmy company, Sebastian liked Mrs. Bhamidipati. She taught Jimmy (over and over) how to make interesting breakfast foods that they tried to recreate on weekends, made sure he had a good healthy lunch, did his physio in the mornings, and gave a damn precise report of the day at the end of every day.

"He's in his bedroom again," she told Bastian, nearly done packing up her activity bag, the library books she read when Jimmy decided he would rather sleep in the middle of the day than play games because his head hurt. It was daft that there were foam puzzles in there, three dimensional cube things that her ten year old still loved, but they linked together and Jimmy loved complicated puzzles.

"Sleeping?" He shrugged out of his jacket, set his laptop bag down on the floor against the kitchen island.

"Dozing. I checked in on him, and he was half playing Sudoku. He did very good on the stationary bike this morning," she added, "but he's off drinking water again. Tea only." She hefted her bag onto her shoulder, and put a hand on his arm as she passed. "And coconut water. There's one open and chill in the fridge for him for later. Good night, Mr. Moran."

"Yes, thanks. I'll make sure he drinks better over the weekend. Good night."

Easy as that and hard as it, too, because that meant it was just him and Jimmy. Sometimes he was okay with that. Sometimes it made him so fucking sad that he could barely admit it to himself, much less anybody else, so he let Mrs. Bhamidipati pass without anything more before he locked the door behind her and went looking for Jimmy.

Dozing wasn't unexpected. He napped a lot when Bastian wasn't home, although whether it was due to boredom or the headaches was anyone's guess. When a headache struck and Bastian was around, it was a whole different story. It was sit on the sofa with his eyes open to angry slits, head on Bastian's shoulder while he watched both something on the TV and whatever Bastian was working on his laptop.

He was mostly sure he could coax Jimmy out of the bedroom, so he pushed the door open with the back of his hand as he stepped in. "Hey, Jimmy, how're..."

Huh.

The fact that Jimmy had gone utterly and completely still under the covers with the creek of the door said more than anything that whatever was going on, it wasn't something Bastian was prepared to see. He probably ought to turn around and walk right out again, but Jimmy looked like a small rodent caught in the headlights, eyes wide, hands suspiciously out of sight.

"Basty." That voice shook, trembled just a bit in a way that amped up his worry. "Go away."

He pulled at it, and then gave a yank that unfurled the sheets from Jimmy's hands. Bastian didn't expect Jimmy to be stark naked under the bedding, with his wadded up t-shirt and shorts, his dick jutting out proudly, something sticking out from between his legs.

It was clear that he knew what he was doing would shock Sebastian from the way he flailed, hands trying to hide himself and what he was doing as he yelped. "Basty!"

Bastian just kept a hold of the sheets, though, watching Jimmy with maybe a little confusion. "Are you, uh. Jesus Christ, is that my screwdriver?"

Make that a lot of confusion. He wasn't sure what he expected, but the way that Jimmy gritted his teeth together and pulled loose the thing before _throwing it at him_ probably wasn't it. "I hate you! Go away!"

It hit his arm, slick with lube, and bounced on the floor dramatically. "No, no, what're you -- why're you fucking yourself with a screwdriver?"

It wasn't at all funny. Not even close, and Jimmy's lower lip was wobbling dangerously. "Well. You won't."

"I..." He let his eyes drop, because Christ, Christ fucking the Pope, he wanted to. Jim's body, familiar even if he'd lost a little weight in places, Jim's amazing body, Jim's face, but it... He was afraid. "I didn't know you wanted me to." He reached out to touch Jimmy's hip.

The way he sniffed and rubbed at his eyes, it was ridiculously fucking childish. That was the thing, and it disturbed him, but Jim was still part of Jimmy, he guessed. If he wanted that. "You. I don't remember all the things. I forget the things. But before, there were.. and I know we did. I know, but I can't. I don't...."

"Please not the screwdriver, baby." He knelt on the mattress, reaching with his other hand to pull Jimmy's hand down from his eyes. "It's okay."

It was. It was going to be fine, and he wasn't all that surprised when Jimmy curled into him, arms around his shoulders. "But it... feels nice and...."

"Something with a little give to it would feel even nicer. If you'd rather not buy dildos..." Shit, even carrots had to be better than a damn screwdriver, but hopefully he could get Jimmy around to neither.

He wasn't entirely sure how to do it, but he'd figure something out, surely. Something, and when Jimmy lifted his face and looked at him with shame and want and hurt, it burned at the center of him. "But you won't. I know. You... you...."

His stomach crunched into a knot, as he shifted in closer to Jimmy, sliding an arm around his shoulders. "I..." He felt dirty just considering it, but Jimmy wanted. Fuck. "I could."

Could, and the way Jimmy looked at him was... Christ. "Basty." His name was a whisper and then he was given an awkward kiss, mouth pressed sweet against his own, closed and the slightest bit damp.

He curled an arm around Jimmy, shifted to pull him in a little closer, a little more intimate, half returning the kisses. "What felt good about that?"

"Everything." Whispered, yeah, but Jimmy was hiding his face against him, whether in shame or just a general shyness, he had no idea. Jim had never been shy about anything, had been demanding and a complete fucker, and he wasn't expecting the whisper against his skin. "So good, stretching, deep, and I want. It made my..." Yeah.

He didn't want to hear what Jimmy called his dick, not after the first time. It was easier to crush his fingers into Jimmy's clean hair, and close his eyes for a moment. "Okay. Okay. You didn't do anything wrong."

Nothing wrong except, Christ. _Screwdriver_ , and he was still hard, rubbing against Bastian faintly and seeming so damned hopeful. "Makes it easier. When my head hurts."

He kissed Jimmy, a slow lazy motion while he slid his hand down to slide a finger down Jimmy's arse crack. The words 'you can't tell anyone about this' rose and immediately died on his lips, because, fuck. Fuck. He was Jim's partner, had been for years, and then Jim fucked it up and he suddenly felt like a molester. "Christ."

Christ, but it seemed to suit Jimmy just fine because he mewled and shifted to make himself more comfortable against Bastian. "Basty. Basty, I..." Clearly was quite pleased with himself and what he had managed to get out of what sure as hell seemed like an epic disaster in the making. He recognized that look, even if he was more familiar with it from before.

"Tell me if you don't like something," Bastian murmured, tracing his dry finger against Jimmy's hole. He'd missed fucking him, sucking him, all of it, but it hadn't been the same. It wasn't the same, and he was a dirty fucking pervert, but he had never been able to tell Jim no when he wanted something. Not when he _wanted_ it, regardless of the things he demanded.

The huff of breath that gained him was excited, and Jimmy squirmed, biting his lip and looking up at Bastian so sweetly that he just wanted... wanted to kill something, maim someone, have the Holmes brothers at his feet in bloody rags, because they were as much at fault for this as Jim had been.

"What we do, this is between us, all right?" He pulled back a little, pawing around for the lube. Once he got a feel for how loose Jimmy was or wasn't, he'd work out his next step. Maybe the screwdriver wasn't so bad as a middle step, all things considered, and he glanced around for it.

"Our secret," Jimmy agreed solemnly. "Like the duffel bag, yeah?" Yeah. Yeah, just that exactly, except it sounded so _skeevy_.

Fuck. Fuck. He shifted backwards, disentangling himself to get the screwdriver. He could use it like a dildo to loosen Jimmy up the rest of the way, because he knew at least Jimmy was used to the feel of it. "Just like that, yeah."

That smile was nothing like the bite he might have gotten when he had still been Jim and yet just enough like it that it made it... maybe a little all right. Better than things seemed at first. "Good, Basty." Good, and his fingers were curling against Bastian's shoulders, massaging them just the way he liked even though Jimmy had no reason to know that. Just habit, just muscle memory. He'd long ago stopped associating it with hope, with being some impending sign that everything was going to get better. He pulled away entirely for a moment, and got his fingers on the screwdriver from where it had landed on the end of the bed.

"Basty..." It sounded just like him, and maybe if he closed his eyes he could imagine that things were the way they had been. That everything was just fine, and he smelled the same, felt the same, sounded the same.

It was going to have to be enough.

Screwdriver in hand, and lube re-located to better reach, Bastian moved to embrace Jimmy again, hauling him in close enough that it was all contact. Warm skin and excited little breaths, Jimmy's hands stroking his upper arms. "Oh. Oh, oh, I...."

"Do you do this often?" He missed when he'd come home and find Jim stuffing his arse with some obscene toy, taunting the shit out of Bastian about it and ordering him to start sucking. Just thinking about it made his fingers falter a little on the screwdriver.

"Why do you think I like naps, Basty?" The sound of that question was undoubtedly cranky. "I'm not six. I know I don't think right but I'm not... I'm not."

He exhaled in a huff, kissing the edge of Jimmy's cheekbone. "I just want to be careful with you. I just. Yeah. You're important to me." He had lube all over his fingers, and that made it easier to tease one finger against Jimmy's hole, slip it just inside. It gave easily, and Jimmy made a sound that was... Christ, so good. Fantastic to hear, and his fingers clenched on Bastian's shoulders, thumbs rubbing hard at them.

"Oh. Oh, yes, I... Please, Basty."

"More?" Better than masturbating under the sheets when no one was looking and screaming when he was caught at it. His arse was all tight clench, but relaxed, ready and able for more. More fingers, more cock, more... ah, hell. Clearly he was going to end up buying more toys despite having gotten rid of the others, but for now the damn screwdriver would work.

Jimmy nodded against his throat, hot and panting with Bastian's touch. "Yeah. Yes. Yes."

Shameless, and it made Bastian feel a little better, a little calmer as he curled a second finger into Jimmy's arse, pulling just a little to see how he'd react.

The answer was that he'd come clean apart, predictable delicious response that he remembered, and god. Maybe, yeah, he could handle this, he could do this, because Jimmy was moaning and rocking, lip bitten tightly. "Please!"

"You're all please now, but if I fuck you right away, you won't be saying please." He eased his fingers out, smeared lube on Jimmy's right arsecheek before he grabbed the slicked messy screwdriver by the shaft to press the handle up against Jimmy's hole. He moaned again and squirmed, pushing wantonly, eyes open as he looked at Bastian with gaze gone hot and wanton, damp lips parted as he took it in, slick and easy and fucking hell.

"Christ. You're just swallowing this..." He twisted it, knowing the ribs would feel interesting spinning like that, and it got him a reaction that was fucking gorgeous, Jimmy's head dropping back, him moaning with the pleasure of it.

"Like it." Yeah, of course he did. Of course, or he wouldn't have been using it.

He eased it in and back out, and then in again, halfway pistoning it just to watch Jimmy huff and pant, to shift in and kiss at the side of his neck. Bastian wanted to ask why Jimmy hadn't asked, and he wanted to ask what else he'd put up his arse. He was kind of afraid of the answer, in all honesty. It could be most anything, and it was better to enjoy this, the way Jimmy writhed and pushed back to it, and that would have been so hot before. Even now, it was interesting, and Jimmy leaned in to kiss him, all soft mouth and tongue, and fuck.

He moaned, felt the slip of Jimmy's tongue against his lips, and let him intrude just briefly, shyly, before he started to work the toy twistingly out of Jimmy's arse. "More?"

"More, more!" The way he'd asked for so many things, demanding, but with an edge, and he was riding, shifting, moving in a way that made Bastian want, a feeling he hadn't had in so long.

"Christ." He swallowed, and rocked his hips, finally pulling the screwdriver out of him. "I'll give you more. Now." Given him anything he wanted, and Jimmy gave a full-body shudder in reaction, fingers curling so that his nails dug into Bastian's shoulders.

" _Yes_!"

It ended up in the sheets somewhere -- Bastian made a note to retrieve it, because falling asleep and getting shanked in the night by a screwdriver wasn't on his list of things to do -- and Bastian slid two fingers firmly into Jimmy before shifting. "Turn around, I want a better angle."

He did as he was told; that was the thing, Jimmy always did what he was told, even if Bastian's hand had to shift. It was clear that he missed it, moaned, looked back over his shoulder with an expression so fucking wanton that it stole his breath to see it. "Please, Basty, please, I want...."

"Me, in you." He kissed Jimmy's jaw, and shifted to press himself up into him. It'd been a while since he'd let his dick slide along Jimmy's arsecrack, since he'd lain in bed with him in anything other than a layer or two of clothes. This was.. this was fantastic, was so like what he remembered, what he wanted, what he missed desperately and Jimmy was rocking back to him, making needy delicious little sounds that made his heart race just to hear them.

"Mmmhm." He felt Jimmy clench, press back hard, and that was enough to get him to reach down and pull at his balls before he grasped himself to press his dickhead up against Jimmy's arsehole. He could feel it, the way it twitched and then opened to him, and Jimmy was making sounds, making Jim sounds, and pushing back, delicious and noisy.

He moaned, pressed his mouth against the skin of Jimmy's neck, and kept up with the slow press until he was balls deep, in to the root. "Jesus, how..."

How, when it had been so long. How, when Jimmy was rocking back to him, and Bastian could see the way he was biting his lip, expression caught between ecstasy and something like pain, but the way he moaned said more than his face, and it was. So very, very good.

Jimmy was stretched so fucking tightly around him that he was afraid to move, and his fingers lingered at the base of his cock. He let his fingers wander, stroke against the skin where he entered him. "Fuck yourself on me."

Fuck back to him, yeah, and Jimmy understood that, understood every word. He rocked forward, rocked back, and Bastian watched the way it looked, saw the way his dick _looked_ , and there were no words. Nothing like it, and Jim's shoulders rolled forwards even as his arse pushed back.

He slid his hand around to grasp at Jim's hip, to hold tightly to him as he started to finally thrust himself, to meet those squirms and slow rocking motions. "Yes, yes..." Yes. Oh god, yes, and he was going to lose it, going to come despite wanting it to last for as long as possible. Jim was making sounds, deep and heavy in his chest, and pushing back with an undeniable vigor, a wantonness that he had missed so deeply. He wanted more wantonness, he wanted to have Jim squirming on the end of his dick for hours and hours, until his hole was raw and open and they were both shaking from exertion. "C'mon, c'mon..."

Come on and come, come on and last, he couldn't fucking decide which one he wanted, but he could tell it wouldn't be long for either of them. Jim's arse was getting tighter around him with every push, and his hand was stripping his cock with a vigor that was obvious from the motion of his elbow.

"Mine, mine, Jim, Jimmy..." Fuck, fuck, he was horny, so worked up and desperate, unable to stop moving, and then he was coming, fucking explosive orgasm from the depths of him, raw and amazing and so much better than anything he'd managed in all the time since.

He held on afterwards, arms wrapped tight around Jimmy, fingers on his hips still holding tightly. "Mmmhp. You all right?"

Squirming, yeah, moving, and he slipped out, Jimmy looking back over his shoulder with an expression so sleepy and pleased that it sent chills through him. "Uh-huh."

He tilted his head, and nudged his nose against Jimmy's neck. "Good. We've got to get you something better than a screwdriver."

Yeah. Yeah, and that laugh wasn't so bad. It wasn't Jim but.. it wasn't so bad. "Okay." Okay, and maybe this... maybe it would all work out in the end because really. His morals had always been sort of adaptable.

He nudged lips against the back of Jimmy's neck, lingering when he asked, "So, what do you want for dinner?" He'd worry about the rest tomorrow.


End file.
